


After Death

by writingtherandom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Other, Season Finale, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingtherandom/pseuds/writingtherandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Dean after Death?<br/>warnings: deathy things... ickiness that will squick some ppl out. sad brother moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Death

"I'm proud of us"

Dean felt his mouth go slack. The familiar feeling of death crept up and stole his life he could feel it draining and fell to it with open arms. His brother didn't actually want him to die, his Sammy did care what happened to him and that made all the difference. 

His body crashed. He heard his poor Sammy trying to wake him. Felt his heart give one final thump, the feeling of his brother cradling his body. He liked that. The last thing on this earth that he would know was his brother. 

Dean was floating. It felt like he was anyway. Like he was hovering millimeters above his body before he sank back in. Horrified, he tried to move. His heart wasn't beating he knew that much. He felt the heat lick up his arm, playing farther than it had ever dared even with the blade in his hand. He couldn't move. To his utter horror he felt his body give way, as all bodies do when they die. He was covered in blood, gore and now his own bodily mess. His eyes were closed and he couldn't see but he could hear and sense. Sammy was hugging him close. Sam wasn't shouting but he was shaking so bad and hyperventilating. 

Eventually Sam set Dean on the floor in order to get his breathing under control. 

"and so it begins again." Sam muttered. Dean wanted to give a jump when he felt Sam's giant hand slide into his front pocket. He was just grabbing the keys to Baby.  
The car. Dean wanted to tell Sammy not to set him in the damn car he was literally covered in crap. Dean wanted to sigh as his brother picked him up and cradled him to his gigantic chest like he was a damn girl, Sam stopped after he was what had to be halfway out of the building and turned around. 

The blade. 

Sam swore viciously as he was obviously picking it up, Dean could hear him wrapping the thing up and presumably stowing the thing in his pocket. Dean could feel himself being picked up again and just near his leg he could feel the hum of the blade. His body wanted to reach out and grab it. Dean swore in his mind and tried to force his unresponsive body to move. Something was seriously wrong and he could feel it. He could feel it rising slowly, from his heart and spreading like wildfire across his chest and through his body. He wondered why Sam couldn't feel it. Couldn't see the inferno that was happening. Though dean could not see or move he realized when they were back at the impala and Sam sat him against the tires, the left back one and it felt like it might need more air, he heard Sam grabbing something out of the trunk and the back door opening. 

'I put a blanket down Dean don't worry about getting the car dirty. I just need to get you home ok?' Great, now Sammy was talking to him like he was still alive.

Dean wanted to laugh with bitter irony that Sam was finally calling the Bunker Home. Dean was reminded at times that Sam was incredibly strong. Probably because of his gigantor size but he got Dean into the back seat with almost no fuss, although Sam did have to go to the other side to pull him in far enough for his feet. He felt Sam lower and set his forehead to his, pushing a kiss into his hair. It was something Sam had not done since they were kids. Sam used to like the spiky feeling texture of Dean's hair when he was very young and would sometimes just press a kiss to Deans head to feel it on his lips. Their dad caught him doing it once and said something about being a little girl and Sam stopped. Dean felt the inferno calm at Sam's touch, still moving, still alive in Dean's body, but calm like it was recognizing him and allowing the touch. 

"Dean, what the hell am I going to do? I lied. Oh god I hated myself for saying it. I knew what would hurt you the most and I just went for it. I realized a few days later that it wasn't your fault. Its mine. It always has been. The chosen child of Azzazel, Lucifer's vessel and one of the most sinful angels, Gadreel wanted to hide out in me. It's me. But there you always are, my big brother, protecting me, always trying to protect me since you took me out from the fire. I never get to protect you. I'm always too late, it took me so long to get control of Lucifer. The entire time I was in the box with him the one thing that was constant was you telling me it was ok. You were there with me. Even though he was beating the crap out of you with my own hands. I jumped and for the longest time I had wondered if you had ever healed from that beating. I had thought Cas was dead too. Then with the leviathan. Couldn't do anything to help you either." Sam fell silent and there was a long moment before Dean felt splashes of tears and another kiss to his hair before Sam hauled himself back and up and shut the doors. 

The ride back was silent. Mostly. Dean could hear Sam muttering to himself. He caught snippets of talk of throwing the blade into the ocean. That was nixed because Crowley had the ability to swim in salt water apparently. 

Dean wanted to smile at that. He so rarely got to hear Sam's thought process anymore. When Sam was growing up and he thought no one was home he would talk out some of his homework, or things he was reading. He did the same at Stanford, reading definitions out loud, talking theories and so forth. Dean smiled harder at the time he was actually caught by Jess. They both played dumb that night when Dean came to pick up Sam. Jess had known who Dean was by then, He had bought he coffee the first night she caught him spying on his brother and she dropped him a line every few weeks letting him know how Sam was doing when he was on a case or tied up elsewhere. 

Dean could feel whatever was stirring within him want to break free. He wanted to open his eyes. His body felt hard, strong, ready for action. His heart wanted to keep listening to his brother. He wanted whatever this was for just a little bit longer. He wondered why one of them always had to be dead for the other to show some affection. 

No chick flick moments. Dean smiled internally. 

Sam hauled Dean out of the car, wrapped in the blanket now because apparently he was stinking. 

'what the hell did you eat?' Sam muttered. 

'Nothing.' Dean answered silently. 'I wish I had eaten that damn cheeseburger with onions. Lots of damn onions.'

Sam took his brother to the bathroom and left him laying on the floor. Dean tried in vain to move, to get his body to cooperate with him. Sam came back a few minutes later and he was breathing heavily. He was really crying now and Dean wanted to flinch. He knew what was coming now. It was exactly what he had done to Sam the first time he died in Dean's arms. Dean had done the exact same thing so that Sam wouldn't realize that he had died. Sam was going to try to do something dumb. It seemed to be a Winchester thing with them. It was their thing. 

Dean's brain just simply shut off as he felt Sam rub his hand over his face. He could feel his brother take his boots off, socks, then heard Sam open up a garbage bag and reach for Dean's belt. 

He felt sick. His brother was taking care of him in the worse possible way. It was not supposed to be like this. It was one thing for him, the big brother, to do it. Sam should not have to do it. Shouldn't have to run a bath to clean his big brother of the realities of death. Shouldn't lay him back down on a clean towel afterwards, dry him and sew his wound shut. 

Sam had really quieted as he redressed Dean, even lacing back up his boots, the occasional hiccup escaping.  
Dean felt Sam's hands wiping some sort of cream into the wounds on his face after he was dressed again. He had a bit of a wedgie but his body still refused to stop playing dead so that he could correct it. Dean was not too sure that he was actually alive but he didn't think he was dead either. This did not bode well. the fire inside him moved restlessly. 

Sam carried Dean into his own room. When Dean was set on the bed he wanted to shoot Sam. How the hell the kid slept on this thing the entire time they've been at the bunker was beyond him. He should have just went ahead and bought Sam one as well. He was reminded at times that Sam never had a place he called home. Dean remembered having his own room, helping his dad paint Sam's room before he was born. Sam simply lived from one room to another, not knowing the joys of having something to call home. Jess had once told him it was frustrating that Sam would never get more things than could be packed into a car in under 7 minutes. He wondered if the same went for the Amelia chick. He would bet the house that it was the same. Sam just had no idea. When Dean figured all this out he was going to fix that. 

"Crowley got you into this." Sam muttered breaking Dean's train of thought. One more kiss got pressed into his hair, Dean felt the inferno inside him calm and shoot straight into every nerve ending in his body. Dean had feeling in his body and he was suddenly sure that he would be able to move now. 

But he didn't.

He stayed just as he was. He heard Sam leaving and to Deans immense surprise he could hear him as he walked limply into the library and straight for the whisky. 

That's a damn good idea Sam. 

Dean was still laying still. He listened as Sam headed into the basement. He couldn't hear him after that. 

He felt when someone else came in. 

He could smell him. Crowley. Dean wanted to shiver. Crowley smelt like a campfire that still had embers sizzling, ready to pop out at unsuspecting campers.  
He listened to Crowley's moving little speech. He was going to kill Crowley slowly and painfully. Not for what he did to himself. But for what he did to Sam and Dean. 

Brothers. 

That was the only thing that Dean wanted. He wanted to be on the road hunting things, sleeping with random women, and having a good time with his brother.  
He was going to get that back. They were going to have that again. Just the two of them. 

To his surprise it seemed that his new found fire wanted that too. Dean wondered if Lucifer knew what his mark really represented. He felt like the mark was alive right alongside him. He felt like the mark acknowledged Sam and would not harm him. No mistakes this time. Not like what happened with Cain and Able. He felt his brain want to quiet for a bit though as it seemed to want to process that and he tuned Crowley back in for a lack of things to do at the moment. 

'Howl at the moon eh?' Dean thought and felt the blade come home in his hands. His body tingled with purpose. Dean opened his eyes. There was no more time to lay about. 

He had work to do.


End file.
